Joan's FlashForward
by CharlesTheBold
Summary: Crossover with the Flashforward TV series. When October, 2009 comes around, and the entire human race sees their future, what do the Girardis see -- and why?
1. PreProphecy

**JOAN'S FLASHFORWARD**

_(Disclaimer: I have no business connection with JOAN OF ARCADIA or FLASHFORWARD. My only purpose in writing this story is to have fun and maybe share it._

_(FOR FANS UNFAMILIAR WITH JOAN: JOAN OF ARCADIA was a fantasy series about a modern girl who, like Joan of Arc, thought she was getting messages and missions from God. God appears to her in human form, as various strangers. The series ended in Spring 2005, with Joan a junior in high school, so I've aged her up to Fall 2009)_

_(FOR FANS UNFAMILIAR WITH FASTFORWARD: FASTFORWARD is a science fiction series in which the entire human race receives a vision of the future (or a potential future) six months from their current date. A disastrous side-effect was that thousands of people died because at the time of the vision they were in the middle of actions requiring alertness, such as driving a car or simply crossing a street. Flashforward seems to be set in a slightly alt. universe, with different presidents and no mention of an economic recession)_

_(The story is set in October, 2009, as is the first episode of FlashForward) _

_(I made some modifications in this chapter after "twin who likes to travel" pointed out some inconsistencies in the back story.)_

**Chapter 1 Pre Prophecy**

Joan Girardi-Rove walked down the path between the Law and Literature buildings of Baconia University. She was deep in thought. What did the future hold?

It was her senior year and she was trying to interview for entry-level positions in some law firms, but none of them had panned out yet. All they would offer were unpaid internships, which the Girardi-Roves could not afford at the moment.

Although neither of them liked discussing it, it was clear to both Joan and her husband that she would be the breadwinner for a while. Adam was a good artist, and had developed a lot of skill and technique during his four years at college, but art was unlikely to be a steady job. At best it would be expensive commissions separated by dry periods. The plan was for her to go back to law school once Adam had achieved some success (and money). She had faith that Adam WOULD be successful.

To be sure, Joan was not the usual twenty-one year old, to whom the future was an utter mystery. For years, mysterious strangers had been appearing to her, sending her on little missions. Each mission had good consequences – good ripples, as Joan liked to call them – but they did not seem to be independent chores. It had been obvious from early on that she was being prepared for something. But what? She still didn't know. Something important to do when she reached maturity, was what she assumed.

On the other hand, she knew that she couldn't just lie back and expect God to smooth the way for her, although a part of her had to admit it would be nice. There had been tragedies in her life. A little boy for whom she occasionally babysat had contracted a fatal disease and died. Her best girlfriend had gotten involved in drugs and was murdered by a trigger-happy drug pusher. Her brother Kevin had been paralyzed in an auto accident and eventually died of complications, leaving behind a wife and small daughter.

"Hello, Joan," said a familiar voice. Joan turned and saw the bizarre figure she called Goth God: spiky hair, chalk-white makeup on the skin, oddly sensitive eyes. The other students ignored Him, either because He was invisible to them or because they were used to eccentric people roaming about.

"Hi." She didn't bow or address Him as My Lord. He never expected that when He was in human form. Once she had even made a joking insult and He took it in stride.

"What are you doing at 2:00 tomorrow afternoon?" He asked.

"I've got a math class. You should know that. You're omniscient."

"I always think it's polite to ask. Joan, you must be home at 2:00 tomorrow. Don't go outside. Don't even walk up or down stairs."

"Why not?" A sudden dread shot through her. "Is the end of the world going to start tomorrow at two?"

"Not exactly."

"What do you mean, not exactly?! You can't have a sort of apocalypse, can you? That's like talking about being a little bit pregnant!"

"Warn Adam, Luke, Grace, your mom, Sister Lily, and anybody else who will listen," said Goth God, dodging the crucial question as He usually did. "Advise them that sitting down at 2:00 is probably best."

"Warn them of WHAT?" Joan was trying not to freak out, but it was difficult.

But Goth God walked off, with His usual backhand wave.

Joan stood and tried to get her jitters under control. "Well," she said to herself, "I guess the good news is, I may not have to worry about my future career."

Joan had one big advantage in sending out the warning. Over the years she had revealed her secret to most of her family: her brother Luke, his girlfriend Grace, her sister-in-law Lily, and her Mom. They were used to getting cryptic instructions from the Deity. Her Mom agreed to try to protect Dad; Adam would talk to his father, Grace would contact her parents. Joan also called Veronica Mars, in Califormia, and Marghareta Speranza, in Italy; both knew her secret. Joan tried to talk to some of her college friends, explaining lamely that she had heard that there was an earthquake coming (which was not very likely in southernl Pennsylvania). She hoped they would take the advice.

At 1:59, Joan and Adam were lying in bed withe their arms around each other, not to sleep or make love, but because that seemed the most stable place to be. They stared at the clock. Joan had deliberately synchronized it with the official time over the Internet.

2:00 came, and the flash hit her.

TO BE CONTINUED

_(NOTE ON TIME: The Flash happened at 11:00 AM Pacific time, according to the FlashForward series. Joan lives on the east coast, so there is a three-hour time zone difference and the Flash would hit her at 2:00 PM. In my first go at this story I got the time wrong, and thought it happened at 10:00/1:00)_


	2. Will Wonders

**JOAN'S FLASHFORWARD**

**Chapter 2 Will Wonders**

_(For FLASHFORWARD friends unfamiliar with JOAN: Joan's parents had three children in all: Kevin, Joan, and Luke. Kevin was dating a former nun, Sister Lily. In my invented future Lily has married Kevin and given birth to a daughter, Teresa, now two years old)_

Long years of working in the police had given had given Will Girardi a sixth sense for knowing when something was up, and he was feeling it right now, as he drove home for a late lunch. What disturbed him was that the odd feeling was coming from the women of his family. His wife Helen and daughter-in-law Lily had invited him for the late lunch, and he had agreed. All very harmless, except that they had been _very_ insistent that he come, and that it could not be served until a quarter to two, and that he shouldn't be late. Something important was apparently going to happen at the lunch.

He already had one theory, and involved Lily.

When Kevin died, a year and a half ago, Lily had been devastated. It wasn't just the usual grief of a widow, or the dismay of a mother left to bring up a kid on her own. Lily had spent much of her adult life as a nun, and when she had left the monastery, had entered onto several aimless years, until she met the Girardis. She had convinced herself that marrying Kevin was her destiny. Of course Lily was a modern woman with a job of her own – she was a counselor at the local Catholic church -- but her emotional life was bound up in Kevin. And now he was gone.

She and Kevin had been living with Kevin's parents, for several reasons. Kevin's medical costs were high, and Lily drew a low salary, so it was economical. The house had already been fitted up to accommodate Kevin's disability: ramps at the crucial spots, and a lift to help Kevin up the stairs. There was plenty of room, now that both Joan and Luke had gone off to college. Helen, whose job as an art teacher at Arcadia High was now part-time, was often available to babysit little Terry. Helen and Will had urged Lily to stay with them, continuing the arrangement, and for the past year and a half it had worked out well.

Then Henry came along.

Henry was a nice guy; all of Will's instincts told him that. He was also a Catholic, and he did voluntary work at a homeless shelter run by the Church, which was where he met Lily. Will still had his doubts about organized religion, but if it inspired somebody to help the less fortunate, then fine. Henry drew Lily out of her shell, and she had even trusted him to look after Terry on one occasion when Helen had a conflict. In one sense Lily had lucked out very well: a thirty-something widow with a baby and a somewhat abrasive personality did not attract many guys, and the fact that Henry got past all that and liked Lily was another thing that impressed Will.

But it was very awkward for a woman to date a new guy when she was living with the earlier guy's family.

Roughly a month ago there had been a crisis. Lily did not come home one night, and Helen had been convinced that she was spending it in Henry's bed. All of Helen's love for Lily and admiration for Henry had temporarily abandoned her: how dare the woman betray her Kevin? Will could see both sides of the question. He was saddened by the way Kevin was apparently being forgotten, yet Lily had to get on with her life.

Nowadays, it seemed, sleeping with a guy could be almost a tryout for marriage, and Henry would make her a good husband.

It had all been a misunderstanding. Lily had actually been with a severely depressed women who was threatening suicide all night, and had been afraid to leave her for a moment, even long enough to call home. Father Ken had confirmed that. Helen had been deeply ashamed of her suspicions when she heard the truth; fortunately she had not confronted Lily directly. But the incident had exposed fault lines in the relationship.

Something important was going to happen at the late lunch, Will was convinced. Maybe they were going to have Henry over, to prove to him and Lily that it was OK. Or maybe Helen had decided that it was time for her, Will, and Lily to finally talk things out.

Will pulled into the Girardi driveway. Almost unconsciously, he noted that there were only two other cars there, Lily's and Helen's. If he were Henry he would bring his own car along, in case things went sour and he had to make a quick departure. Ergo, Henry wasn't here.

As he entered he heard Helen and Lily working in the kitchen. Terry's crib had been set up in the dining room, within sight of the women, and Will stopped to kiss and dote over his grand-daughter.

"Hi, darling," said Helen, coming out of the kitchen with a bowl. "I was afraid you wouldn't make it."

There was an edge to her voice. Will's instincts told him that she had been VERY afraid.

"Got delayed by a last-minute telephone call, but it's all settled now." He straightened out and walked toward the stairs.

"You're going up?" Helen asked.

"I wanted to pay a visit to the bathroom."

"Oh—" said Helen nervously.

"Not too long a visit, I hope," Lily said, coming to the table with a plate of vegetables. "I'm starving."

It sounded casual, but Will had the distinct impression that Lily was covering for Helen.

Déjà vu.

There were several occasions in the past few years when Will had the impression that _something_ was going on in the house, just beyond his purview. It had started with Joan's craziness. Then Luke and his girlfriend Grace suddenly seemed to understand Joan, without explaining her to her parents. A year later, shortly after the kids went off to college, Helen started sending Emails and making phone calls to Joan and Luke without discussing them with Will. Then Lily seemed to join in, though at the time she was pregnant with Terry and Will had mistaken it for mood swings.

Will felt frozen out, and Kevin had felt it too. They discussed it sometimes while working on the never-finished Boat. But after Kevin died, Will no longer had a way to verbalize it; he just kept feeling it.

Finally the three of them were seated at the table, with Terry's crib safely nearby. They exchanged small talk for a few minutes, but it sounded like stalling.

Helen kept glancing at the clock, and on one occasion Will imitated her. 1:59.

"Is something supposed to happen at two o'clock?" Will demanded.

"Well—" Helen began.

And then the flash hit.

TO BE CONTINUED


	3. What Dreams May Come

**JOAN'S FLASHFORWARD**

**Chapter 3 What Dreams May Come**

Will thought at first that something horrible was happening to his brain, possibly a stroke. He could not move, he could not see. Then something opened his eyes. He could see things, but he could not turn his head to look at them, or even focus his eyes on a particular object at will. His eyes were under the control of somebody else, or even something else. Then somehow, he realized that he had it backwards: it was not that somebody had taken control of his body, but that his mind had entered somebody else's body, and was limited to only share its senses.

It was only after he had figured that out that he actually tried to interpret what he saw.

He – or the body that he had somehow invaded – was in the local Catholic church, in the small room called the Bride's Room. He had been here once before, when Joan had her botched wedding with Adam. But the woman sitting in the main chair, in a wedding dress, was not an eighteen-year-old girl, but his daughter-in-law, Lily.

"It was so wonderful of you to agree to 'give me away', Will," said Lily.

"Most women nowadays seem to regard the idea as insulting," Will heard himself say.

"But it means you've accepted that I'm not betraying Kevin's memory."

"A memory is one thing, and the present is another. I understand that Henry is part of your life now, and so are we, just in different ways."

"Thanks. By the way, Henry has agreed to let Terry's name stay 'Teresa Girardi', even though it seemed best to let him adopt her as his legal daughter."

"A good compromise."

_I haven't taken over somebody else's body. I'm me! But why are there two of me, and what the hell is happening?_

KNOCKNOCKNOCK. "May I come in?" called Helen's voice.

"Sure, Helen," called out Lily.

Will's new body opened the door. The sound of the organ playing Pachibel's CANON came through. So did Helen.

"I just spotted Cute Boy God, among the guests," announced Helen.

_Cute Boy WHAT?_

"Nice of Him to grace us with His presence, though I suppose He's really present all the time," observed Lily. "I think He may have played Cupid earlier."

Helen chuckled. "Rather appropriate, since they're both gods."

Will's body laughed, though his mind was still bewildered. "Why do you say that, Lily?"

"The day I met Henry at the shelter, we were both helping an elderly, bearded man. I never saw that particular man again. Joan said it may have been the avatar she calls Homeless Man God." Lily sobered. "It fulfills the Biblical prophecy, doesn't it? _What you do unto the least of these, you do unto Me."_

"My favorite Bible verse," said Will's body. "If all religion was like that, I'd never have a quarrel with it. As it is—"

"Will, please, we're in church!" cautioned Helen.

"Don't worry, I'll behave."

_FLASH._

Will was back in his own dining room. Helen was slouched in her chair, her head thrown back. Lily had fallen forward, her chest in the lasagna plate, and she had knocked over a glass of wine. The stain from the wine seemed to have been spreading over the table for a minute or two. Both women were starting to stir.

Terry started screaming.

The potential danger to his grandchild galvanized Will. He got up, and realized that he COULD get up; he was back in control of his body, which was a huge relief. He had not enjoyed the feeling of being a puppet. By the time he circled the table to reach the crib, Lily was already there, though she looked disoriented, and there were food stains all over her blouse.

"It's all right, darling – Mommy's here – Grandad too – everything's all right—" Lily cooed. Then she looked up at Will and spoke in quite a different tone. "Is it? WHAT HAPPENED TO US?"

"I don't know – what did you exper—"

Will's cell phone went off. By habit, Will opened it swiftly and adopted a no-nonsense tone. "Girardi here."

"Will, it's Carlisle," shouted his assistant's voice. Carlisle seldom shouted and never called his supervisor by his first name, but this was scarcely a normal day. "We've been attacked somehow – everybody in the station blacked out. Maybe nerve gas or something. I'm sorry to interrupt your special luncheon, but I think you better get down here."

"Something happened here, too." Will looked around. Lily was hugging Terry, who had stopped crying. Helen was sitting up, looking stunned, but at least awake. It was not a good situation, but it was no longer a crisis here. "I don't think it was nerve gas, unless somebody blanketed the whole city with it. But I'm coming down. I'll get there as soon as possible."

But today even the simplest tasks would be almost impossible---

TO BE CONTINUED.


	4. The Visionary

**JOAN'S FLASHFORWARD**

**Chapter 4 The Visionary**

"_Joan, keep calm. Things may be looking totally weird to you, but you will not be harmed."_

Joan was hearing the still, small voice in her head. God had never communicated with her like this before, but it was obvious why He was doing this. She had no control over her body, including its senses, and it terrified her. But with God's assurance, she decided to accept what her senses told her and hope that a solution would come. What was more, she was feeling emotions that seemed imposed in her from outside, a sense of love and triumph utterly at odds with her current panic.

She was in a large room. She was holding somebody's arm, but she couldn't tell who, because she could not turn her head. What she could see of that opposite wall was a large field of white dabbed with color; then her eyes refocused and she realized that she was looking at paintings hanging on the wall. An art gallery. A number of people were standing in front of her, with cameras, cell phones, and various electronic gizmos.

"Mr. Rove, can you tell us what inspired your painting?"

"The credit for that goes to my wife Joan," said Adam's voice. "She was my muse as well as my model."

Joan felt her mouth smile and her head turn. She was indeed standing next to her husband, and he showed no sign that there was a cosmic crisis going on. But then, since she had no control over her body, her own face was probably equally calm.

"Could we have a picture of you and Joan looking at the painting?" asked a photographer.

"Certainly," Joan heard herself say. "I love looking at my husband's work." She and Adam turned around.

Joan was looking at a large painting on the wall. At its center was her own image, with a rapt expression on her face, sitting in a beautiful landscape. There were some other images floating around the Joan-image, but Joan couldn't get her eyes to focus on them. Instead they dropped down to look at the name of the painting, displayed on a brass surface under the picture. THE VISIONARY.

"Thank you. And now let's snap the two of you with an image of the check."

They handed Joan and Adam a big cardboard cutout, a blown-up image of a bank check. It was made out to ADAM ROVE, and the description said AWARD, FIRST PRIZE. The amount of the check would have made her eyes bug out if she had any control over them in the first place.

FLASH.

She was still holding onto Adam – but now they were lying on their bed in their apartment again. Joan once more had control over her body, and she held her beloved in a tight embrace. After a minute they relaxed their grasp, and Adam muttered "What just happened?"

"I don't know – I had the weirdest dream."

"We were in an art gallery—"

"And you had just won an award for a painting called—"

"—THE VISIONARY," concluded Adam.

"We had the same dream? That's crazy!"

"Grace and Luke have been able to do that, with God's help."

"But He's never done that for us. I'm calling Luke, see if he can make any sense out of this. " Joan got out her cell and punched in Luke's number. Like her, he was in his senior year, but at a far more prestigious college: Harvard.

"H'lo?" Luke's voice, sounding odd.

"This is Joan, with Adam. Something odd happened. A peculiar dream."

"I know. I had a nightmare. It was horrible, horrible---"

"Luke, are you crying? What the hell happened?"

"It was Grace. She was dying. Like Kevin. And I was helpless. I couldn't save her life, I couldn't even MOVE!"

"Luke, get a grip. It didn't happen, it was a dream – but if it was like ours, it was probably very vivid. Call the real Grace immediately, make sure she's OK!"

"Yeah—"

"JANE!" yelled Adam. He was looking out the window.

"I'm on the phone!"

"LOOK OUTSIDE!" he insisted, scarcely hearing her.

The imperious yelling was utterly out of character for Adam, and that told Joan that something extremely important was out there. Joan punched her phone OFF and joined Adam at the window. She gasped.

Cars all banged into each other, on what was normally a quiet side street. One car had left the street altogether, and rammed into a tree, crumpling the metal. Including the driver's compartment. And that car looked frightening familiar.

Joan grabbed her coat and dashed outside. She didn't need a vision from God to tell her that her help might be needed. Adam followed at her heels.

On the street, she could hear screaming, ranging from mere panic to actual agony. She punched 911 on her cell, and got a busy signal.

Unsure which emergency needed her attention most, she decided to run to the tree and check the damaged car.

"Oh my God!" swore Joan.

It was half a curse and half a plea. There was a body in the driver's seat, mangled and definitely dead. Her friend and classmate Agnes Mertz.

TO BE CONTINUED


	5. Fallout

**JOAN'S FLASHFORWARD**

**Chapter 5 Fallout**

Will stared in astonishment at the mess on the street. Euclid Avenue was normally a quiet street, averaging about one accident a year. But now he was staring at two pileups on the road.

_Imagine the accidents that can happen when a driver falls asleep at the wheel. Now imagine if every driver on the street does it. _

He tried to help out at a couple of the sites, then he decided that there were priorities. _I'm the Chief of Police. I need to be at the center of things._

He got out his cell phone again and dialed headquarters.

"Carlisle," said a frantic voice.

"This is Girardi. I'm coming to headquarters, but accidents have made the streets impassable. I'll have to walk."

"Do you want me to send one of the helicopters?"

That was tempting, but -- "No. Hold them in reserve for life-threatening emergencies, because they will be needed." Will could only imagine how much worse busier roads would be. "Call me if any important decision needs to be made. Use your discretion otherwise. I'll trust your judgment representing me."

"Yes, sir."

Will set up a steady pace – not running, because that would exhaust him before he could reach his goal. When he reached Sidney Street, the damage looked far worse than on Euclid. Sidney was a major traffic artery, running to the park and City Hall downtown. People would have been going faster on it.

Will punched his cell phone and held it his ear while continuing to walk briskly. That was a useful skill that he had learnt years ago.

"H-H-Helen Girardi."

"It's Will. Are you ladies all right back there?"

"I think so."

"Wonderful. Try not go out, but if somebody comes by needing help, do your best."

"Of course. Listen, Will, did you have a dream?"

"I don't have t—"

"It's important, Will. Did you? What about?"

"Lily and I were in a church."

"She was getting married?" asked Helen.

"Yes! How--?"

"We both dreamed it too."

"That's bizarre, but we have more immediate things to worry about. I'm calling the kids."

"All right, I'll get off."

He punched in Joan and Adam's number.

"Joan Girardi-Rove," Joan spoke shakily.

"This is your Dad. Are you all right?"

"Adam and I, yes. Agnes is dead. Do you remember the girl from the drama club, played the Amazon."

"Yes. I'm terribly sorry. But Luke—"

"I called him. He's safe, but he's very upset. He had a dream about Grace dying—"

"Tell him to forget dreams for the moment. We have a real crisis to deal with." He momentarily felt bad for his son; he could only imagine how scary it would be seeing the person they love die, even if it was just in a dream. But there were more pressing things that needed to be thought about.

"I know. Mom---"

"They're OK, I just spoke with them. Now, I need to call some other people."

"I understand. Bye-bye."

Will punched in a third number. It was long distance, but the hell with the cost at the moment.

"Amita Ramanujan" said a woman's voice, sounding stunned.

"This is Chief Girardi of Arcadia Police. Professor Epps worked with me once. May I speak with him?" Charlie Epps was a mathematics professor who often used his skill to help law enforcement. If anybody could figure out a weird problem, it would be Epps.

"Charlie's on the other phone, to Washington."

"Did something happen there too?"

"You mean California or Washington? I think the blackouts hit both."

Will wanted to curse. " Well, I'm glad Charlie seems to be on it."

Headquarters again.

"Carlisle."

"This is Will. What happened didn't just hit Arcadia. My daughter's in Pennsylvania, my son's in Massachusetts, and I just talked to somebody in California!"

"You think it's some kind of multiple terrorist attack?"

"I don't know. Try to contact some of the national organizations, see if they know anything more."

"Yes, sir."

Will concentrated on walking now. There was one silver lining: in spite of the obvious chaos, there didn't seem to be any looters taking advantage of the anarchy. Maybe the potential looters were as frazzled as everybody else.

He finally reached headquarters and got to his office. People were running it as efficiently as they could under the circumstances. Will asked that as many people as possible man the telephones; he didn't want to risk a life-or-death 911 call getting a busy signal. He asked Carlisle to try to organize reports and find out which corners of Arcadia needed the most help. Then, reluctantly, he called Lucy Preston in Washington. He hated Lucy, who among other things had tried to arrest Grace once, but Lucy worked for Homeland Security and this was an emergency.

"Do you think it was a terrorist attack?" he asked on getting through.

"Not unless the terrorists were trying to terrify themselves too." Lucy said bitterly.

"You mean--?"

"We've been getting calls from the Middle East. Mass blackouts an hour ago, in both Israel and the Arab states. By a miracle, they talked to each other instead of starting to shoot immediately, and established that they were equal victims."

"Victims of whom… or what?"

"That's what we'd like to know."

- - -

That evening, Will looked at the reports at dismay. The highest accident rate in Arcadia's history for any one day. The hospitals were overflowing. At least his family was safe at home during the crisis.

A thought struck him suddenly.

The blackouts had happened at 2:00 in the afternoon. Precisely when Helen and Lily had scheduled lunch. And they had been very insistent that Will be seated at the table with them at two. As if they had expected something to happen.

Could Will's own family somehow hold the key to a terrible disaster?

TO BE CONTINUED

_(Author's Note: Charlie Epps is the mathematician/detective from NUMB3RS. Amita Ramanujan is his fiancee and former student. Ironically, the actress playing Amita on NUMB3RS also made a guest appearance on FLASHFORWARD. I had Will meet Charlie in an earlier story, NOT WITH A BANG)_


	6. The Future is Still There

**JOAN'S FLASHFORWARD**

**Chapter 6 The Future is Still There**

Adam had always thought in visual images. It was probably why he had become an artist. But after two hours, during which he and Jane tried their best to tend to the wounded and get them to aid, the images of the carnage became too much for him, and he retreated back into their flat.

He sought some other image in his head on which he could meditate, and recalled the painting in his dream. Unlike most dreams, that one had not faded in his memory, and he could recall the painting vividly. It was, he could tell, superior to anything that he had done in reality, even the much-praised JUDGEMENT OF PARIS. Could he reproduce it? It sounded odd, yet many artists of various types had supposedly been inspired by dreams.

Jane came back in, looking emotionally exhausted, and got on the Internet. Amazingly the network was running well in spite of the disaster. Luke had once explained that the US military had been involved in its early years, and had designed it to survive a crisis. There was no center to it, just thousands of servers scattered throughout the world, and they could run independently of each other and without human supervision. What's more, it was designed so that packets that found one route blocked would search out an alternative route to their destination, so that from the human point of view there was no blockage at all.

Having already phoned home to Arcadia, Jane's first priority was finding what happened to Grace. Fortunately Grace's current posting, although in an impoverished country, was on-line, and Jane was able to exchange Emails with her.

_It hit me in the middle of the night, and it seemed like the ultimate nightmare. I was in agony, and unable to move, and the only bright spot was that I was vaguely aware of Luke being there. But I woke up, and I'm fine now. Didn't even realize something was odd, until Luke called and asked if I was alive. Then the radio started reporting disasters in Europe and Americas._

Jane next tried her friend Veronica Mars in California. Fortunately Veronica had taken Jane's warning seriously, and had somehow persuaded her family and friends to stay in safe spots at 11:00, which is when the flash hit Pacific Time. Adam didn't know how Veronica had managed that, but according to Jane she was a very clever and persuasive girl. Only one acquaintance, a guy named Dick, had disregarded her warning. He was no longer among the living.

Luke himself sent an Email.

_I called Grace; she's OK, and apparently it was just a nightmare on my part. __My roommate and I are safe. But he's gotten a message that his mother was in a car accident, in Ohio. He decided to set out for there immediately, even with the roads a mess. _

Other Emails came in, too. Jane called her husband's attention to one, which had been broadcast by a local student to everyone in her address book. .

_My name is Ellie Himmel. I'm new in Baconia, and you probably don't know me. But it seems that the emergency people – cops, hospitals -- are all swamped, and I'd like to organize some people to help each other get through the crisis. Please contact--_

"That's very noble of her," opined Adam, wondering if he should feel guilty about burning out this afternoon. He pushed away the thoughts before they could start eating at him.

"Yeah. I think I'll look her up tomorrow, see if she's on the level."

"Why shouldn't she be on the level?"

Jane sighed, waving her hands around as she spoke. "Adam, I'm a policeman's daughter, and I've known Grace for years. Call it healthy paranoia. It's possible that somebody might try to exploit a crisis, or may make a well-meaning attempt to bring the mess under control. Can you imagine armed vigilantes rushing around in the name of 'maintaining order'? But if I think her idea is good, I'll join up with her."

Meanwhile they kept exploring the outside world electronically. TV was one of the last things to get reorganized; it was more dependent on people than most communication systems, and the people had been knocked out during the afternoon. But by mid-evening they managed to tune in to a sort of news program. After reading the frightening statistics of the day, the newscaster came up with something new.

"I will now transfer you to Janice Hawk, technical specialist of the Los Angeles FBI."

The screen changed to show a rather attractive thirty-something woman.

"Hello. Like everybody else today, people in our office were knocked out for 2 minutes 17 seconds this morning at 11:00 Pacific Time. While comparing notes with each other, we found out something that other groups have also noticed: that people not only had dreams, but the dreams seemed to match up with each other. A couple of people that we have talked to happened to spot calendars or newspapers during their dreams, and they all agree on the date: April 20, 2010."

"We have come up with a rather unusual theory," Janice went on. "What mankind experienced was not dreams. It was a vision of the future, six months from now. The dreams dovetailed because they were looking at the SAME future. It is possible that whatever caused the visions did so with such force that it overwhelmed brains' ability to sense current surroundings, and was responsible for today's death toll. "

"We want to learn everything we can about April 20, 2010, to see if that gives us a clue about the cause of the visions. If you think you witnessed a useful clue, please Email to us, www dot mosaic dot gov, and we will try to organize them into one big picture. Thank you."

Jane switched off the TV and sat there stunned. "A vision of the future! All these years and He's never given me a vision of the future. Now everybody got one. Why would God do this, with such horrible side effects?" She wrapped her arms around herself as Adam hugged her.

Adam tried to think about it, and realized something horrible. "Grace!"

"What?!"

"Grace. We confirmed that she wasn't really dying, NOW. But don't you see what that vision theory implies? She will be dying six months from now!"

Jane dashed to the computer and sent a hurried Email to her brother. For several minutes there was no response. Adam even wondered if Luke had fainted and, if so, whether there was anybody on the other end who could revive him. Eventually the reply came. It was full of misspellings and typos, which were almost unheard of from Luke. Adam figured he must be quite frazzled.

_I relized the implctions about Grace too. Evrythins awful._

_I cant sit here broooding alone in a empty dorm bout Grace. Can I com visit._

"Yes!"

- -

Morning brought some more startling news, more local, delivered by mass Email from the university office. It came while Joan was out visiting "Ellie Himmel".

"We regret to announce that 5 professors and 21 students lost their lives in yesterday's crisis. Some of them are still unaccounted for. We will release names in one hour after the nearest relatives have been notified. A memorial service will be held tomorrow."

"2 professors and 28 students are under medical treatment. We have received more than hundred requests from students wishing to be excused from classes in order to visit families and friends who need their help. Under the circumstances, we have made a decision unprecedented in our history: classes will be suspended for two weeks."

Adam stared at the computer. It was as if civilization was coming to an end. He was still staring when his wife returned.

"Did you see the girl?" Adam asked.

"Yeah. I'm convinced she's honest about helping people out. But she's not very familiar with the area, and she'll need advice. I promised to work with her."

"I'll help too. By the way, we're going to have time to do it, because classes are cancelled for a couple of weeks."

"I got a call on my cell from Luke. Harvard made the same decision. I suppose a lot of schools discussed the idea with each other." Jane sighed. "I haven't heard from _Him_

since He gave us the warning yesterday. But I suppose it's obvious what to do. Be as helpful to others as we can."

"Jane, aren't we dancing around the central problem. If God knew that this was going to happen, _why didn't He stop it?"_

"I don't know. I really don't know."

- -

KNOCKNOCK.

"It's Luke," said Jane, looking through the peephole. "And he looks real pale." She unlocked the door.

Concerning Luke's sensitive personality, and what had happened during the last couple of days, it was scarcely surprising to Adam that Luke would be pale.

Admitted by his sister, Luke took a couple of steps into the room, and collapsed on the floor.

One sleeve of his coat was soaked with blood.

TO BE CONTINUED

_(AUTHOR'S NOTE: Janice and her project are taken directly from the FLASHFORWARD pilot episode, though viewers did not see her actual announcement) _


	7. Counselor, Heal Thyself

**JOAN'S FLASHFORWARD**

**Chapter 7 Counselor, Heal Thyself**

It wasn't Lily's usual day to work at the church, but Father Ken had made her a rather frantic call: hundreds of people had come to the church desperately searching for spiritual guidance. It wasn't just the Catholic church, of course; similar scenes were happening at the Protestant churches, Rabbi Polanski's synagogue, and the local mosque.

Lily could not hear confessions, of course, but she had training as a religious counselor, and so she went to the church and did the best that she could. Some people had mild injuries, some had lost relatives and friends to accidents during the blackouts, and some were simply stunned. Everyone wanted to know WHAT DOES IT MEAN? Lily could give expert advice on some side issues, but to the main question, all she could do was tell the people to have faith and hope that the truth would be revealed in time.

One couple she particularly recognized: they were named the O'Brians. Three years ago they had come to Lily about their daughter Debbie, who seemed to fantasize having chats with Jesus. At the time Lily had interpreted it as an extreme case of the "invisible-friend" syndrome, and suggested that it would go away once Debbie acquired normal friends. Several months later, when Joan finally let her into the big secret, she also told Lily that Debbie O'Brian really was receiving divine visits, as a sort of Joan-in-training. Fortunately the parents never came back to her and so Lily didn't have to deal with it again – until now.

"Is Debbie all right?" Lily asked in concern. So many people had died in accidents---

"Yes. I mean, physically OK. But today – I need to catch you up on the background."

"Go ahead."

"You gave good advice, several years ago. Debbie made real friends in school, eventually got interested in boys – nice boys, fortunately. Gets involved in some odd hobbies, but that's not the problem now. She still rides horses occasionally. She hasn't talked lately about Jesus, except in the normal religious sense – until yesterday."

"What happened yesterday?" Lily had a feeling she knew what they were going to say.

"She said Jesus had come to her yesterday and warned her that a big crisis would happen today; that she had to make sure her family and friends were safe. She asked us to stay home from work to make sure we were out of danger. At first we refused; we didn't want to be humoring a teenage girl's weird fantasy. But Debbie got so frantic that we finally agreed to come home after the morning. And the crisis DID happen. How did she know--?"

_Because God had told her, just as he warned Joan._ Lily took a deep breath. "Mrs. O'Brian, I can't say anything for sure, but it's possible that Debbie did get a genuine vision of the immediate future. The church calls them charisms, gifts from God--"

Mrs. O'Brian did not look too surprised; they must have considered that. "But why Debbie?"

Mr. O'Brian suddenly spoke up. "It may not be Debbie in particular. I've been talking with friends over the internet this afternoon. They all had dreams, and many of the dreams seemed to deal with something happening in the future. So maybe somehow Debbie had a vision a day early."

"It's NOT just a day early," said his wife, looking annoyed. "Looking over the past few years, I think Debbie's continued to have these encounters with Jesus; it's just that she started hiding them after we created the fuss three years ago."

_Like Joan hid her encounters for two years. Like I had to hide the secret from Kevin, like Helen still has to hide it from Will. The O'Brians shouldn't have to go through that._ "Mrs. O'Brian, Mr. O'Brian, I think the best thing would be to talk with Debbie herself, encourage her to be honest, and not be judgmental at what she tells you." Lily knew it wasn't her place to tell. But she didn't see the harm in pushing the O'Brians in the right direction.

Mrs. O'Brian sighed. "Yes, that would be best. Sorry to bother you on a day where things are obviously so busy."

"Don't worry about it. And you're welcome."

After that talk, Lily asked the next visitors to wait a few minutes while she visited the ladies room. She really did need to pee, but more importantly she had to settle her nerves. It was scary to have a special line to God – and scarier when, in spite of the line, God refused to tell you what was going on.

She got her cell phone out and called her mother-in-law from the ladies room. It was obvious that consultations were going to continue into the evening, and Lily remembered that awful occasion where she had been out of contact on a nightlong suicide watch, and Helen had thought Lily was sleeping with Henry.

But Helen had news of her own. Other people had discussed the same phenomenon that Mr. O'Brian had, and a government official in California had announced a theory that the dreams people had experienced during the Flash were actually visions of the future. Which meant-- Lily pushed the thought out of her mind. She had to help other people now, and deal with her own business later.

She talked with people for an hour, supped on a sandwich and Coke from the church's vending machines, and talked for another hour. It was about 7:30, when the last parishioner came in – and Lily, intent on making notes, didn't even raise her head for a few seconds. When she did –

"Henry! Oh, thank God, you're all right!"

She circled the desk, threw herself in his arms. They had never hugged and kissed like this before; thoughts of Kevin always lay at the back of Lily's mind, and had inhibited her. "I tried to call you."

"My cell phone got smashed. I was talking on it when I blacked out, and when I came to it was lying on the floor in pieces. Then I made my way to a shelter to volunteer, and it was such a madhouse that I didn't get a chance to use the landline. I was terrified that something might have happened to you, Lil."

"No, I – " Lily caught herself, wondering what to say. That she had been warned by her sister-in-law? And HADN'T passed the warning to Henry because she had underestimated the danger, and couldn't figure how to explain it? "I'm all right."

Finally they untangled, and Henry sat in the spare chair. He looked awkward. "Um, Lil, don't think this is forward of me, but I had a dream---"

Lily decided to cut to the point. "We were getting married."

"Yes. And there was a TV on at the shelter, and a story about everybody having visions of the future."

"Six months, they say. It looks like we're getting married in six months."

"Yes. I love you, Lil. I want to get much closer to you. But I've been terrifying of proposing because I know that you wanted to stay loyal to Kevin."

"Why haven't you asked me to sleep with you?" Lily blurted out. _ Yikes, did I actually say that in church?_

"It isn't just wanting sex. And that seemed to be the cheap way out. Like getting the fun without paying for it."

"PAYING for it?!"

Henry raised his hands in defense. "By getting married, I mean. The pleasure without the responsibility."

Lily laughed out loud. Henry was so sweet and understanding, she thought. Yet while trying to be as nice as possible, he had inadvertently expressed the male attitude of marriage as a ball-and-chain, and somehow managed to compare her to a whore in the bargain. And she badly needed a laugh today. "Just be frank, Henry. What's the question?"

"You've seen that we may be getting married in the future. Would you like to be my wife?"

Lily sobered immediately. "I – I can't answer that right now, Henry. Too much going on. Yes, I saw the vision, and I felt how I was going to feel, and it was wonderful. But it's like thoughts being put into my head from outside; I don't know if it's ME."

"Fair enough. But you didn't mind my asking?"

"No, of course not. I love you, Henry, and I'll answer you when things are calmer." She gave him another hug and kiss. "And um, Henry—"

"Yes?"

"Let's get out of here. A Catholic church is NOT the place to make out."

It was almost eight o'clock when Lily got back to the Girardi residence. Even then, Will had not gotten home. He came at about a quarter to nine. Helen ran to hug him, then drew back suddenly. "Will, what's wrong?"

"Wrong? " Will repeated, in a quiet but intense voice that Lily had not heard before. "The entire human race got attacked this afternoon, and nobody knows why, and you want to know what's wrong?"

"Well, of course I know that, but everybody in the family is safe. Try leaving your problems at the office for a few hours," urged his wife, speaking softly, trying to calm him down.

"I'm afraid that's impossible, because part of the problem is here." Will took a deep breath. "Helen, you and Lily went to a lot of trouble to make sure I was safe here at home at 2:00 when the Flash hit. As if you two KNEW that something was going to happen, and at that moment. HOW DID YOU KNOW?"

TO BE CONTINUED

_(Author's Note: Debbie O'Brian, a younger girl receiving visits from God, was introduced in an earlier story, ANOTHER JOAN)_

_(Author's Note: This chapter was inspired by a scene of the FLASHFORWARD series, during which a frazzled-looking minister says that he, and his opposite numbers in other religions, is being swamped by counseling cases)_


	8. Luke's Cat

**JOAN'S FLASHFORWARD**

**Chapter 8 Luke's Cat**

As Luke came to, he heard his sister and his brother-in-law arguing about whether to take him to the emergency room. Joan was in favor; Adam said he would ordinarily agree, but at the moment the hospital would be swamped with accident victims.

Luke found his voice. "I don't need to go. It's under control."

"Luke," said his sister in concern, "you should have told us that you got injured during the Flash."

"I wasn't. I cut my arm on purpose."

"_What?_ Whatever for?"

"To prove that I can save Grace."

Adam stared at Luke before looking at his wife. "He's delirious. You're right, we should take him—"

"No, no. I knew what I was doing," Luke insisted. "Let me stay lying down, and I'll explain."

"I'm going to fix some food, and get something for you to drink," said Joan, feeling a little shaken. "Losing that much blood is not good, no matter what you thought you were doing. I can hear you talk from the kitchenette." She walked into the area.

"Okay. The basic idea is that I don't think what we saw was THE future. I think it was a version of the future. We can change it by our actions."

"Because God gave us free will?" asked Joan. She thought about the ripples and the whole Ramsey situation. Things definitely could have gone differently; God had showed her the outcome that would have occurred had Joan not intervened.

"Well, yes, but I was thinking it through from the scientific point of view. Science is testable, whereas God is working in mysterious ways at the moment."

"I can agree with that," said Adam ruefully.

"Remember Ms Lischak talking about the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle in AP Physics?"

"Vaguely," said Joan. "Like I remember high school French."

_In other words, not much_, thought Luke sardonically. Then he recalled that that particular school quarter was sandwiched between Crazy Camp and the death of Judith. Joan definitely didn't want to remember that time.

"The basic idea is that, at the subatomic level, you can't predict exactly how particles will behave. It's not just a lack of information – it's the particles themselves that are unpredictable."

"You're saying the PARTICLES are unpredictable," pointed out Adam. "What about bigger stuff?"

"Particles can affect things on a bigger level. A physicist named Schroedinger published a famous line of reasoning. Suppose you take an atomic reaction that can go two ways, and you can't predict which. Suppose you create a box designed to release some poison if the reaction goes one way, and stay safe if it goes the other way. Then you put a cat in the box."

"Gross."

"It's a thought experiment, Joan; he wasn't trying to kill a real cat. His point was that you couldn't predict whether the cat would live or die, so the Uncertainty Principle can affect events on our scale. It's called the Schroedinger's Cat argument."

"I see," said Adam. "With visual images, it's easier for me to follow."

"What does this have to do with Grace and your arm?" demanded Joan.

"If there is only one possible future, and we can see into it, then everything becomes predictable. The Uncertainty Principle says that can't happen. So more than one future is possible, and I think we can determine which one happens. What we saw in the visions is probably what science would call the 'default' future – the one that will happen if we don't will to change it."

"And scientists are sure about this?" asked Joan.

"Frankly, no," admitted Luke. "Einstein hated Heisenberg's theory, he called it 'God playing dice with the universe'. But all the experiments on the matter have favored Heisenberg and disproved Einstein. To be sure of it, I did an experiment of my own, on my arm. You see, I happened to see my arm during the vision, and there was no scar. Now there is. If I can change the future in small ways like that, I may be able to save Grace. It was worth hurting my arm, to know that. Actually I didn't intend to hurt it this bad; the bandage got loose and it started bleeding again."

Joan served the food. "I don't want to sound insulting but it still sounds very iffy to me."

Luke dug into the food with relief. "I'm not insulted, Joan; challenging theories is part of the scientific method. Socrates said the unexamined life is not worth living. I just want it to be true for Grace's sake."

" I love Grace, and of course I want her to survive. But have you talked with any other scientists about this?"

"No. Everything was too chaotic at Harvard."

Adam seemed to think. "Maybe you could talk to a physicist here at Baconia."

Joan and Adam managed to arrange an appointment for Luke that afternoon with a Professor Mahadenka in the Baconia University Physics Department, even though things were still chaotic. Ordinarily getting a time might have been difficult, but classes had been cancelled, and perhaps being a Harvard science student gave Luke a certain prestige. The professor would know that he wasn't just a crackpot wandering off the street. In return, Joan also demanded that Luke get his arm examined once the crunch in the hospitals had lessened.

Luke visited the Professor and described his ideas, purely as a theory. He definitely didn't admit to cutting his arm on purpose.

"It's interesting reasoning, Mr. Girardi," said the Professor. "But I don't know if it's an accurate description of the universe."

"You don't?"

"The Uncertainty Principle isn't an absolute law. It's a hypothesis. A hypothesis strong enough to stump Einstein and supported by decades of experiment, but still a hypothesis. Now we have a completely new phenomenon, a vision of the future. We still have no idea how it worked, scientifically speaking. Does the Uncertainty Principle apply in this circumstance? We don't know. It may take years to come up with a theory. "

Luke frowned.

"As an analogy," said the professor, "consider the matter of motion. Aristotle taught that all moving objects eventually come to a stop, and that certainly matched what everybody observed. The philosopher had no way of knowing that a moving object would keep its velocity forever in a frictionless vacuum; that was beyond the technology of his day. So hypotheses based on limited circumstances can turn out to be wrong."

"I see," said Luke, disappointed. "Thank you, professor." He got up and started for the door.

"Excuse me if I am prying, Mr. Girardi, but you seem to have a personal stake in this, not just a matter of having the right theory. Lots of people saw visions that affected them deeply."

"I saw my girlfriend dying. I want to know if it can be stopped."

"I'm sorry. Let me point out that I didn't say that your theory was wrong, only that it is unprovable at the moment. So, don't lose hope for your girlfriend."

"Thank you." _But I think I've got a proof that the future can be changed. I've got a scar on my arm that proves it._

Joan and Adam had given Luke a spare key, in case they went out. They were doing charitable work with a girl called Ellie Himmel, helping victims of the Flash, and they couldn't predict when they might go out. So Luke let himself in.

The couple WERE there, in the living room. Adam was in the far corner with a sketch pad. Joan was kneeling in a rather awkward pose, looking upward, and she had no clothes on.

"Joan!" Luke looked away quickly, embarrassed.

"Ulp!"

Adam hastily put down his pad and fetched a robe from a nearby chair for his wife to put on.

"I'm sorry, Joan," said Luke, flustered. "I didn't think you'd be, um, unclad in the living room."

"It's all right. I was posing for a picture."

All the same, Joan was a lot calmer over the mishap than she would have been, say, four years ago. In high school she might have gone ballistic over the possibility that her brother had seen her butt. Brother and sister had matured over the years.

"Um, what's the picture?" asked Luke, anxious to change the subject.

"It's something I saw in my Flash vision," explained Adam. "It was called the Visionary."

Luke thought over it. "That's weird."

"My painting?"

"The cause and effect. You're copying a painting that you saw six months from now. But the picture you saw was drawn by you, based on—"

"—a painting I saw in the Flash, six months from now," mused Adam. "That IS weird. Where did the original idea come from?"

"It's called a Strange Loop," Luke went on, "and it's used in a lot of science fiction stories, like THE TERMINATOR. I just never expected to come across it in real life. But could you do me a favor?"

"What?"

"Do something different in the copy. Prove that things can be changed this time around. For Grace's sake."

"OK."

"It beats cutting your arm," admitted Joan. "What next?"

"I'll try to talk to Grace," said Luke. "I don't know what her illness was or where she caught itt, but maybe it was in one of the impoverished regions she works in. Bad sanitation, lack of antibodies. Maybe I can persuade her to come back to the States for a while, until the danger is over."

"I managed to catch Lyme Disease in Arcadia," Joan said ruefully. "But yes, saving Grace's life is worth a try. Maybe some good will come out of this!"

TO BE CONTINUED

_(Author's Note: In the original FLASHFORWARD novel a scientist did suggest creating a scar to test the changeability of the future. I wanted to give credit where it is due)_


	9. Things Seen and Not Seen

**JOAN'S FLASHFORWARD**

**Chapter 9 **

**Things Seen and Not Seen**

Helen woke up the next morning in her bed. Alone. Will had decided to spend the night in Luke's empty room. Things had gotten that awkward the previous evening – yet Helen could not think of how the situation could have been handled differently.

One thing was clear to her: she could not reveal Joan's secret, without her daughter agreeing to it. She had misunderstood Joan six years ago, even decided to send her to what Joan dubbed "Crazy Camp". Now she owed it to Joan not to give out a secret that might make her look crazy again.

It had also been clear to her that there was little way to minimize the situation. Will was not just being curious; he had a duty to investigate a disaster, and Helen seemed to have a possible key.

So she had stood and said "I dreamed that it would happen, Will."

"Dreamed it."

"Yes."

"I have bad dreams all the time, usually after I've investigated terrible crimes and can't get them out of my mind. I don't let them affect my waking life. And I've certainly never had a dream that was specific as to time of day. Why was this dream so convincing, that you invited me home and even had me sit down at the proper time?"

Helen had hesitated, unable to think of a convincing answer, and Lily had intervened. "Her dream was sent from God, Will."

"_God?"_ He sounded partly frustrated and partly unbelieving.

"Yes – it's called a charism –"

"Helen has been a religious skeptic up until the past few years. You've served the church all of your life --- as a nun, and now as a layman. What would God send a dream to Helen instead of you?"

Lily looked flustered. Of course it was Joan and not Helen who got the original warning, but the original puzzle remained – why, five years ago, had God chosen a bumbling teenage girl instead of the ardent young nun to do his bidding? Lily had always been puzzled by that, and had eventually decided that it simply had to be accepted. "God works in mysterious ways, Will."

"That sort of argument might fly in medieval times, but not today. I need FACTS, Helen. Every lawman in the world is going to get involved in investigating the crisis, and I need to put you in the clear. Do you want Lucy Preston to get involved in this?"

"Oh, so you're playing good cop? Because Lucy makes a very good bad cop." She crossed her arms and tried not to fly off the handle. Lucy had caused enough problems in the past. Not only had she tried to subtly undermine Will's ethics, but she had frightened the normal unflappable Grace.

"I'm your loving husband, Helen! Please! I know you wouldn't be involved in anything evil, Helen. Who are you protecting?"

_My daughter. But even saying so would expose her._

"She's telling the truth about God," Lily had insisted. "Think about your vision. Helen said something like 'there's Cute Boy God' and you ACCEPTED that. You're going to understand."

"I can't take my vision as proof of anything, because I don't understand what the vision was. For all I know, somebody may have faked my memories."

"If you love me, Will, you'll trust me," Helen had proclaimed. She was running out of arguments to make that wouldn't expose Joan.

That had ended the immediate conversation, but not the bad atmosphere. Sleeping in the same bed while angry with each other was out of the question, so Will had moved to the other room.

When Helen went down to fix breakfast the next day, Will was not there. He had left a note on the table.

"What does it say?" asked Lily, coming down behind her.

"'Gone to work early, lots to do.'"

"I expect I have a lot to do also," commented Lily. She might be trying to distract Helen from the rift between her and her husband, but if so, Helen was grateful. "Lots of people will want to talk things out, and I may even be needed at a shelter or a hospital to help out."

"At least have a good breakfast before you go, Lily. You'll be more helpful on a full stomach."

"Okay."

Helen walked into the kitchen and brought up the real reason she had wanted Lily to stay for a few minutes. "There's something we need to talk about."

"Oh?"

"It seems that you're remarrying six months from now."

"Don't start with me. You're criticizing me for something that hasn't happened yet, that I've scarcely been thinking about."

"I'm not criticizing you, Lily. The me in the future was happy for you. So I guess I should be happy now." She didn't feel very happy, but she wasn't going to tell Lily. "Yes, I'll always miss my son. But I can't expect you to put your life on hold forever, for Kevin's sake. It's not what he would want."

"Well – thank you." Lily seemed taken aback by Helen's answer.

"Lily, let's talk some girl talk. Don't think of me as the possessive mother-in-law. Do you like the idea of marrying Henry?"

"I don't know. It's like Will said, I feel like somebody is putting ideas in my head."

Helen poured coffee and tried to build the nerve to ask the next question. "What about dating?"

"I'd feel damned awkward, going out with a guy and coming home to my in-laws' house." The mild profanity gave away her frustration . "It's time I moved out."

"We don't need to talk about that now. But you would like to date him."

"Yeah," Lily muttered.

"And – do things?"

Lily went red and looked away. "Um… Well the subject came up, and we don't want to Do It. Yet." She slammed down the coffee cup, still half-full, and got up. "Helen, my personal life is trivial. We need to concentrate on other things." She started toward the front door. "I've got a lot of people who need my help. And you – I think you need to concentrate a lot on what you're going to tell Will."

Helen sat glumly. Lily was right; gossiping about her love life was really a way of getting her mind off another, far more dangerous problem.

Had she and Will hit an unbridgeable rift?

TO BE CONTINUED


	10. Joan's Journey

**JOAN'S FLASHFORWARD**

**Chapter 10 Joan's Journey**

_(AUTHOR'S NOTE: FLASHFORWARD is back on TV, but I've already come up with my own resolution of the story, and I'm not necessarily going to dovetail with what the future TV episodes reveal.)_

"—and then I woke up," said the boy.

"Thank you for your story," said Joan.

"Thank YOU," said the boy. He looked around at the dozen-odd people in the group. They were meeting in one of the Baconia University classrooms, since classes had not yet resumed. "I've wanted to get that off my chest for a week, but, of course, there were embarrassing parts…"

Joan waved her hand dismissingly. "Don't worry. Remember, everybody has sworn not to reveal anything they hear in this room, without permission from the original speaker. However, that part you remember about going to the observatory to study a supernova may be important. Do you mind if I repeat that to a scientist friend?"

"Well –" The boy seemed hesitant but finally said, "As long as you don't use my name."

"I won't; I swear it. Now, does anybody else have anything to add? No? Then we'll meet again next Tuesday. Yes?" One girl was waving her hand.

"Madam Chairman," (the girl knew Joan's name, but attendants at Flash Anonymous avoided giving personal names). "It was a relief to tell my story, but now that I've done it, I don't think I need to keep coming. Do I have to?"

"Not at all; this is all strictly voluntary. The only mandatory thing is not to reveal somebody else's secret without their permission."

"I won't."

The meeting broke up, but Elizabeth Grotzmann walked up to the chairwoman. "Joan, this was such a marvelous idea! There are so many people who don't want to keep the 'flashes' to themselves, but also don't want to post them on mosaic dot com for everybody to see. Flash Anonymous is perfect for us. I've Emailed some friends back in Arcadia, and they're going to form their own Flash Anonymous club."

"Thanks, Elizabeth. But I hope you didn't give me too much credit. It was Ellie Himmel's idea."

Elizabeth Grotzmann frowned. "I've met her. Rather strange girl. Lots of good ideas for helping people after the flash, but she can't seem to ACT on them. You're always picking up the pieces behind her."

Joan shrugged. "Well, she's new here, and she's shy. I don't mind. I think of it is a fruitful division of labor -- Ellie the Idea Girl, then Work-it-out Girl, that's me. I really don't mind."

She left the building and started toward the flat that she shared with Adam. Once she thought she was out of earshot from any other student, she got out her cell phone and punched in her brother's number.

"This is Luke."

"Joan. Luke, I can't give the guy's name, but somebody told me that he was studying a supernova in his flashforward. Is that important?"

"A number of scientists have reported that, but it's good to have confirmation."

"Could the supernova have caused the flashforward?"

"Nobody's worked out a mechanism for it. But visible supernovae are rare, less than one per century. For one to happen just at the _terminus ad quem_ is very suspicious."

"The what-crumb?"

"Sorry about the jargon. The scientists have invented some two theories, with some odd names attached. _Terminus ab quo_ is Latin for departure point; it means the crucial cause happened a week ago, and kicked us 6 months into the future. _Terminus ad quem_ means destination point; that theory is that the crucial event will be 6 months from now, and that we were pulled to there instead."

"I'm getting dizzy with all this pulling and kicking."

"Just focus on what you're doing, Joan; helping people deal with their flashes. I think that's the harder work of the two."

Joan was careful NOT to ask about Grace. She knew that Luke was trying his best to persuade Grace to come back from her job abroad, but she also knew that Grace was a very private girl, and would resent Joan getting involved. Let Luke do what he could; Joan knew he was the only one who could convince Grace to return.

When she got home, she found a message on her land-line answering machine.

"_Joan, this is Lily. I don't want to say much on the phone, but you gotta come down here. Please. It's your parents; they've been arguing for a week, and we're at an impasse. Please come. CLICK"_

Mom and Dad arguing? This was the first Joan had heard of it. Lily must have been trying to handle the conflict herself, but had just given up. Lily had training as a counselor, and had helped couples before. If she thought that she couldn't help her in-laws, then things really were a mess.

When Adam got back home from his projects, Joan explained Lily's plea for help.

"I'll come with you, Jane."

"No! Please don't."

"You think it's that private?"

"It's not that. I need you to stay up here and help out Ellie. This is an on-going crisis, Adam, and people need to do what's most needed for them to do."

Adam saw the point, and immediately helped Joan start packing.

Joan hadn't anticipated a long journey by car, so after crossing the Maryland border she stopped at a gas station to fill up her tank again. There was actually a human attendant there to work the pumps. As she drove off, the attendant called out:

"I suggest you detour by Leslie St., Joan!"

The mention of her name by a stranger who had never heard it was still the usual signal. She was now in traffic and could not backtrack immediately, but she took the first U-turn she could find and drove back to the station. The attendant was nowhere in sight.

"Where are you?" she called out. "You can't just hide, after all this!"

"May I help you, ma'am?" said a middle-aged man in a service-station uniform, walking up. Probably he thought she was crazy. Joan tried to control her emotions and look calm.

"I need to talk to the guy who filled my tank a few minutes ago."

"We don't have employees working the pumps right now. All my people are busy doing repairs. Flash and Crash cases." Presumably he was referring to cars that ran into obstructions when their drivers blacked out.

"But—" Joan realized that it was useless to argue with the manager, who was presumably honest. There were no real employees working the pumps. God had taken the role to talk to Joan, and probably made his activities invisible to everybody else. "Thank you, sir."

"Damn, damn, damn," muttered Joan after she was back in the privacy of her car. It was probably not kosher to curse a divine activity, but that was how she felt right now. She had heard nothing from God since the day of the Flash, and desperately wanted an explanation of what happened. Yet he popped up just to give her another incomprehensible mission. She could never call God; He thought he could always call her. She was getting exasperated.

All the same, by sheer force of habit, she took a detour by Leslie St., in a rundown section of Arcadia.

_CRACK!_

Joan was a policeman's daughter and could recognize a gunshot when she heard it. And any doubts she had were settled when she saw a guy rush out of a shop with a gun. He hopped in a car and drove off as fast as he could.

Joan was tempted to follow, but she remembered a stern lecture from her father, which had occurred after she and her friend Veronica Mars try to tail a suspicious character by car. A gun-wielding criminal who feared capture for a serious crime was a dangerous man, Dad had said. An ordinary citizen should not try to play the hero, but should leave it to the professionals who were trained in such things. Instead Joan carefully stared at the car's license: CBS 666. Then she got out her cell and called 911.

-------------

When she got to the house, Lily was alone with her kid, and looking antsy.

"OK, I'm here. What is the problem?"

Lily told the story of the confrontation between Will and Helen in her presence. "Helen faithfully hid your involvement in the whole thing, Joan. The problem was, Will could TELL that she was hiding something. I mean, he's had years of experience questioning people."

"But this is Mom! He's not going to regard her the same way he'd regard a criminal suspect walking through the door."

"Normally, no. But Will is under tremendous strain. The Flash may be the greatest crime in history, and every law enforcement official in the world has been ordered to find out all he can. Yet Helen is, in his view, clearly hiding something, protecting somebody. He's not suspecting you. But when a wife conceals something crucial from her husband, well, sometimes he suspects, well – _cherchez l'homme_ -- look for a guy."

"Certainly he can't suspect that Mom is – is –"

"I don't know, Joan. What I do is that the atmosphere is poisonous here, and I felt that I simply had to call you."

"All right. I'll try to intervene."

"Thank God. Now, Henry has asked me for a date – and frankly, I don't want to be around when the fireworks start. Can you babysit Terry until somebody else gets here?"

"Right. Go ahead, this isn't your problem here."

"Thank you."

Lily went out, and Joan looked down on Terry. When Lily was pregnant a few years ago, she had had an oddly prophetic dream, and Joan had wondered whether Terry was destined to have a special relationship with God, temporarily expressed through her mother. Would Terry have a better understanding of the divine purpose than Joan did, or would she too be kept in the dark, being granted knowledge only when there was a need to know?

Joan heard the front door open again. She wondered how long she had been standing here, thinking the same thoughts over and over.

"Joan!"

"Hi, Dad." She rushed to hug her father, but even in the couple of seconds it took to reach him, she could see how careworn he was.

"I'm glad to see you're all right, Joan. There was a shooting on Leslie St., and they told me you had phoned in the car's license number."

"That's right."

"But what were you doing on Leslie Street? It wasn't on your route here from college."

Joan took a deep breath. The next sentence would be one of the most crucial statements of her life.

"God told me to be there, Dad."

"_God?!"_

"Yes. I know it's going to take time to explain this, Dad, but I've been going on missions for God for years!"

TO BE CONTINUED


	11. The Revelation to Will

**JOAN'S FLASHFORWARD**

**Chapter 11 The Revelation to Will**

For Will Girardi, the last few years had been painful.

The big tragedy, of course, had been the death of Kevin, his firstborn. Sheer grief had been followed by guilt. The death was caused by Kevin's poor health, caused by the auto accident, caused by --- what? Was there something that Will could have done differently, bringing Kevin up? Some days, the answer was no; other days, yes.

Getting back to normal life had been difficult because normal life itself kept shifting. The surviving children, Joan and Luke, were already away at college. They didn't always come back for vacations, either. Joan and Adam frequently went on long trips whose purposes seemed mysterious to Will, though Helen always seemed to take them in stride. Luke had spent one summer working with his beloved Grace at her famine relief agency in Africa. They kept in touch by Email, of course, but Will was an older generation and could not get very sentimental over words on a computer screen.

There was Lily and little Terry, of course; Will loved seeing his granddaughter every day. But Lily's continual presence in the house was a reminder of Kevin's absence.

A far more subtle problem was that even when everybody was there in the Girardi home, they weren't all there.

Once again Will was haunted by the feeling that everybody in the family was hiding something from him. Kevin had noticed it, too, when he was still alive, though he tended to make a joke of it. Now Kevin was gone, and Will seemed to be alone outside the pale.

In his experience as a policeman, secrets in a family often had to with sexual scandal. But concerning whom?

They had already thrashed out the matter of Lily and Henry. Joan seemed devoted to Adam. Could Luke be sleeping with a girl at Harvard and not telling Grace? Maybe, but Grace was a hard-headed modern girl and probably wouldn't be too shocked that her distant boyfriend wasn't celibate; although Will had a tough time believing anyone would be okay with being cheated on, even Grace. Besides, why lock Will out of the discussion?

That left Helen. Did she have a lover? Somebody involved in the Flashforwards?

It seemed incredible that a mother would admit infidelity to her children and get them to help in a cover-up. But when he had confronted her, she told a wild story about a gift from God—

"Your mother mentioned God, too," Will said.

"She was covering for me," Joan said. "I was the one who got the warning about the Flashforward and spread it around."

"So YOU had a vision from God?" Will looked at her skeptically.

"Not exactly. I bumped into an avatar---"

"A what?"

"Avatar. Hindu term for God in human guise. I've seen Him in a number of forms, sometimes as girls, and avatar seemed to be the convenient term for them."

Will didn't know about Hindu terminology, but he was suffering from déjà vu. Sometime recently he had heard about avatars. Then he remembered his Flashforward. Unlike normal dreams, Flashforwards did not seem to fail in the memory.

_The day I met Henry at the shelter, we were both helping an elderly, bearded man. I never saw that particular man again. Joan said it may have been the avatar she calls Homeless Man God._

"Give me the names of some avatars."

"They usually don't use names, I've given them nicknames. Old Lady God, Little Girl God, Dog-walker God, Goth God. Grace often sees a girl riding a horse; calls her Diana or Cowgirl God. I don't know whether the horse is part of God or not. The first time it happened to me, it was in a form I call Cute Boy God."

Cute Boy God. Déjà vu again. _I just spotted Cute Boy God, among the guests, _Helen had said.

"Dad, why are you looking so odd?" Joan asked, worried about how Will was reacting.

In interrogations you were not supposed to reveal your own feelings; it gave the other side too much information. But this was not an interrogation, it was a conversation with his daughter! "I heard people talk about Cute Boy God (what a name!) and other avatars in my FlashForward. And the future me seemed to understand what they were talking about."

Joan lit up. The transformation was astonishing; Will didn't know if he had ever seen his daughter so happy. "Dad, that's marvelous! If you only knew how often we wished we could be honest in front of you! And now we can!"

The emotions of the situation utterly confused Will. Joan had basically confessed to a conspiracy to hide information from him, yet seemed overjoyed that it was over. "Who's 'we'? Obviously you, Helen, and Lily. Who else?"

"Adam, Luke, and Grace. Judith knew before she died. Veronica Mars. A girl in Europe, some friends in college. Not everybody is entirely cool with the idea."

"I can imagine. And nobody told me?" He sounded a little angry and hurt.

"You're a skeptic, Dad. We never had enough evidence to convince you. But now you know that you'll accept it in the future, so you can accept it now!"

"Exactly what are you asking me to accept? That there's a God? Joan, I could just barely accept Kevin's death as bad luck. Now you're telling me that there's a God who could have stopped it, and didn't? Why didn't God prevent all the deaths of innocents during the Flash?"

"I-I don't know." Joan felt her heart drop. Her father wasn't accepting it as well as she thought he would.

"I've noticed that religious people say 'I don't know' a lot. 'I don't know and I can't be bothered to investigate and find out'. God knows and that's sufficient. You gotta have faith. Ignorance is bliss."

"Daddy---!" Joan seemed about to cry. A few feet away, baby Terry, almost forgotten by the pair, started wailing. That was a sign to Will to get his bitterness under control.

"I'm not talking about you, Joan." And certainly his description didn't fit Luke or Grace, who were also in the secret according to Joan. Something weird there. "I'm just explaining why I can't just accept that God is going to give me all the answers and I should just 'wait patiently for him'." Will rubbed his head. "Joan, you've given me a ton of stuff to think about, and maybe I should think it through before I say anything else. Where is everybody?"

"Mom's at a museum gathering. Lily's on a date." Joan picked up her niece and tried to soothe her. "Just one thing, Dad. The only thing Mom did wrong was try to keep a secret I gave her. Please, you guys gotta get back together."

"All right." As soon as he figured out how to react to the whole story. Will lacked the temperament to simply paper over a problem for the sake of peace. He reached the top stair and took a deep breath.

Life had thrown him another boomerang.

TO BE CONTINUED


	12. Love in the Time of Flashforwards

**JOAN'S FLASHFORWARD**

**Chapter 12 Love in the Time of Flashforwards**

Grace lay naked in the bed, looking up at her beloved.

Actually the bed was not real, and the real Grace was in her cot fast asleep wearing shorts and a T-shirt. This was the Dreamworld. In exchange for their willingness to separate in the real world – Grace working for a famine-relief organization, Luke going to Harvard to his improve his intellectual skills – God had given them the ability to meet occasionally in their dreams.

"Grace – I can't."

Grace tried to hide her disappointment, but it was difficult to hide one's body language when one's lover could see one's entire body. Grace had especially been looking forward to this reunion. There was a chance that she might die within six months. Grace was not a follower of the "eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we may die" philosophy; she worked hard at her job. But it meant that the few meetings with Luke were precious to her, especially since they seemed too far and few in between.

But she knew that what Joan used to call "a case of the importations" was very embarrassing for a male, and the Luke was more sensitive than most. "Is there something I can do---?" Maybe if she tried to be more seductive?

"No – I don't think – " Suddenly Luke blurted out, "The last time I saw you in bed, it was my flashforward, and you were dying."

_Damn, that was frank._ But Grace valued frankness, and admired it in Luke.

"Maybe I should lie down on the floor instead," Grace said half-seriously.

"That's not the point, Grace. I love you, and the best way that I can express that is by saving your life."

"I'm not sick yet, Luke. I've had tests done; they've come up negative. When they come up positive, I'll fly back to Europe or the States."

"It may be too late then, Grace. Lots of diseases are curable if caught early and deadly if you wait too long for treatment. We don't know what disease you're going to get. Are these tests exhaustive? "

Grace was tempted to say _Yes_, and end the matter. But Luke's frankness deserved honesty in turn from her. "No. The doctor said that they're the best that can be done in the field."

"Then get out of the field, and get stronger tests, Grace!" Luke's tone was exasperated. It seemed like a simple solution.

"It wouldn't be fair, Luke. We try to share the conditions of the people we're helping. Am I going to drop everything and fly away because of a case of hypochondria?"

"A flashforward is not a case of hypochondria, Grace! It's an indication of what will happen if you don't try to prevent it."

"I---"

"Grace, look at it this way. If you're sick, you could be a carrier, like Typhoid Mary. By getting yourself tested, you ARE helping the other people."

"Hmm – looked at that way – all right, I'll do it. It shouldn't be hard to explain my concern to the camp doctors. After all, everybody's had flashforwards."

"Thank you, Grace." He sighed in relief.

Luke circled around and climbed in the bed. But now it was Grace's turn to have a disturbing idea. "Luke, could you think back to your flashforward? I can't examine mine because I was delirious during it."

"It's not pleasant to think of, Grace, but I'll do it if you ask. Why?"

"What did your future self remember? Did he remember having a flashforward himself, six months earlier?"

"Hmmmm."

"If he did, he would have talked MY future self into having herself tested, right?" The pronouns were weird, but Grace hoped that she was getting her point across. "But she was dying anyway. Did something go wrong?"

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking -- between my future self being concerned with you, and my being confused by what was going on, I didn't think of looking at his memories. Damn."

"Has anybody else remembered remembering their flashforward, if you know what I mean?"

"Interesting question. I'll look into it when I wake up."

"Fine. But in the meantime –"

Grace's willingness to have more tests seemed to have relieved Luke's anxiety, and solved his attack of "importations". Indeed, the subsequent lovemaking was wilder than most of their encounters. Grace was sure that afterward that she remembered Luke coming out with the line "Hail Grace, full of Mary—"

- - -

RRRING.

Joan picked up the phone. She knew her Dad was in a state of shock, and he shouldn't have to deal with a caller in that mood. "Girardi residence."

"Thank God it's you, Joan. This is Lily."

"Hi."

"What happened?"

"I tried to explain everything to Dad. I think he's half convinced."

"Half?"

"Dad has always been of two minds about God. One mind says He doesn't exist. The other mind says He does exist, but Dad doesn't approve of how He runs things. I think I've persuaded him that a God is involved, but he's not happy about it. From his point of view, God has invaded our family and persuaded everybody to lie to him."

"Including me. I hope he doesn't hate me."

"He's upstairs now trying to thrash things out in his head. I called Mom and suggested that it's best to leave him alone while he does that. She's staying at a fellow artist's place. You might want to stay away, too, if you have a place to spend the night."

"Welllllll --- that was the other thing I was calling about. Henry and I have reached an --- understanding."

"You mean you're going to sleep together?" Joan's tone was curious, not accusing.

"Um, yes – though I'd prefer to say 'making love'. I hope you don't think I'm betraying your brother, Joan."

"No, you're not betraying Kevin. He'll always be a part of your life, but he can't dominate it. It's time to move on. If anything, it may be better to give Terry a new Dad."

"Thank you for understanding, Joan."

"I'll cover up for you with Mom."

"No, Joan, we've talked about it. For days I've been puzzled about my feelings about Henry – if I go with him, am I letting myself be influenced by my vision? If I don't go, is it just because I'm trying to defy fate? Helen told me that I should just put the vision out of my head and listen to my heart – even if it came up with a different answer than Helen would have liked. I don't want any more secrets splitting the family."

"OK. Though I will, um, not mention it to Dad tonight. Too much else going on here. Have a nice, um, whatever."

"Thanks, Joan." Lily cut off her phone call.

Joan played for a while with her niece, trying to put all the complications out of her mind and to see the universe with the innocent eyes of a child. Then she heard footsteps at the top of the stairway and realized that her father had come to some sort of resolution.

"Hello, Joan."

"Hi, Dad," Joan said cautiously.

"I've thought about it over and over, and gotten nowhere. When I'm at the office and in this frame of mind, I know that I've got to talk to the suspect, the witness, whatever."

"You wanna talk with God?" asked Joan.

"I need your opinion about it. What if I argue with God, say that I disapprove of the way He's running the world? Will He throw me into Hell?"

"No, Dad. He believes in free will. He'll try to convince you that you're wrong, that's all. I can tell you in advance, He respects you. He's praised you as a man who always tries to do the right thing, without having a divine command ordering you to do it."

"Then I'll speak with Him. Can you ask Him to come?"

Joan shook her head. "It doesn't work that way, Dad. He appears when He wants. But—"

DING-DONG went the doorbell.

"---I think that's Him right now."

TO BE CONTINUED


	13. Agon

**JOAN'S FLASHFORWARD**

**Chapter 13 AGON**

Will went to answer the door: something Joan thought very brave under the circumstances. Indeed, for almost the first time in six years, Joan was once again finding herself frightened of an encounter with God. Not irritated, which happened a lot, but actually frightened. God would adhere to the promise she had made, that God would not use force against Will -- wouldn't He?

She tried to focus on a more immediate and harmless question: what form would God take this time? Not Little Girl God or Goth God; they would freak Will out. Even Cute Boy God or Cowgirl God, that forms he usually took with Joan's group, might not have enough _gravitas t_o convince Will that they were God. Old Lady God? Maybe.

After a seeming eternity, Joan heard the front door open.

"Hello," Will said coldly. "Are you the Person my daughter told me to expect?"

"Yeah. Joan and I go back for years."

Joan blinked at the voice. Tough Guy God? Come to think of it, that might work. At least he would have the aura of strength that Will would expect. Joan relaxed a little.

"Joan?" Will called back for verification.

"Yeah, that's Him."

"Come in, then. I mean that only in the physical sense. I'm not inviting you into my life in the religious sense."

"Yeah, I realized that." Tough Guy God didn't sound upset or even frustrated. In fact, He sounded like He took what Will said as a fact and was just responding to it.

"Should I go?" asked Joan nervously as she stood in the doorframe of the kitchen. She could see her father and God enter the main living room.

"No. I want you here, Joan, to ensure that our Guest is telling me the same things that he tells you. Will you promise to speak up if you hear a discrepancy?"

Joan looked at Tough Guy God, who nodded. Will's cautious skepticism didn't seem to bother him.

"I promise."

"My first question is, why did you turn my family against me?"

"I didn't," said Tough Guy God. "They are not against you, and never were. You have a remarkably diverse family, chief, spiritually speaking. Each member of the family has a different ideal in life. You have a moral code which you have divorced from religion, a devotion to the Law. There's your wife, who usually agrees with you on an intellectual level but had an artistic intuition that led her to Me. A remarkably spiritual daughter with an instinct for doing the right thing. A son whose devotion to science and belief in scientific law is as intense as yours for justice. A son-in-law who sees everything in turns of art. Lily, a basically traditional religious believer. Grace, who shares your passion for justice but expresses it in a far different way."

"Grace isn't a member of the family," said Will, confused. "She and my son largely separated when they reached college age, even though Luke worked with her one summer."

"It's a bit different than that, Dad, but I think we need to save that for later," suggested Joan. Talking about a pair making love in shared dreams would open another can of worms. Maybe she would just admit that they met in dreams but wouldn't go into details, she thought. After all, she doubted her father wanted to hear about his son's erotic dreams. Joan felt a bit weird thinking about it herself.

"My point," said Tough Guy God, "is that your family have amazingly different worldviews, but stay together in love. It sounds simple, yet for centuries humans have failed to achieve that level of harmony. Their decision not to tell you about Me until they had evidence that would convince you was part of their coping strategy."

"He's right, Dad," said Joan. "I've WANTED to tell you for years, but never figured out how."

Will seemed to think about the question for a minute. "All right, let's drop that. I'll discuss it with my family later. There's a more important question I should have asked first, because thousands of lives depend on it. Why did the Flashforward occur?"

"Do you want a scientific explanation?" asked God.

"No. Frankly, it would probably be lost on me. I want a moral explanation. You're omniscient, so you must have foreseen it. You're omnipotent, so why couldn't you just say "Thou shalt not happen"?"

"Because I follow rules."

"Rules! A huge disaster and you talk of sticking to rules!" Will was getting frustrated.

"But don't you, Chief? I remember an incident that happened the first year you moved to Arcadia. Your department arrested a suspect and you were sure he was guilty, but you lacked legal proof. When a policeman tried to manufacture evidence, you penalized him, because you believed in playing by the rules. So you should understand why I would adhere to rules even when it creates suffering."

Will looked pained, and Joan could see that God had analyzed that situation properly. Joan kept her mouth shut, because this was between Will and God, but she was angry with God for taking a rigorously honest act of her father's career and turning it against her father in the debate.

It took a minute, but Will seemed to find a flaw in the argument. "It's not the same thing. I'm not all-powerful, and in fact that the purpose of the rules is to keep one man from getting too much power. I was faced with an unpleasant incident that had not been of my making, and had to choose the lesser of two evils. You're in a far different situation. I don't know what caused the Flashforward, but you knew the cause, and cause of the cause, and so on backward forever. Somewhere you could have intervened."

"If I intervened at the macro level at any other point, I will have broken my laws. But there was one possibility. The Uncertainty Principle."

"Luke tried to explain that to me once," observed Will, "but I don't remember."

"Luke described it to me recently," Joan said, finally deciding to try to calm down the conversation. "He said that at the very small scale, you can't predict what will happen, because rigid rules don't work at that level. Which means that YOU can break rules there."

"Yes, that's basically correct," said Tough Guy God.

"Then why didn't you avert disaster that way?" demanded Will.

"I did."

"But the Flashforwards—"

"You're assuming that the Flashforward was the worst that could happen. It wasn't. Humanity could have been wiped out.

"What?" yelled Joan, stunned.

"I can't explain this scientifically, because humanity has not discovered the principles yet. They will, in the next few months. But basically a disturbance is going to hit Earth this coming April, and it would be enough to destroy humanity. By intervening at the quantum level, I was able to deflect the blow, so to speak. I created a less probable and less serious disturbance, which spread back along a six-month period, and created what humans perceived as the Flashforward."

Joan was shocked, but she recovered ahead of her father; she was used to the concept of ripples. "It sounds like an old Jewish legend that Rabbi Polonsky told me once. A poor farmer gave shelter to the prophet Elijah and his apprentice. The next day Elijah cursed the farmer's cow, who died and left the farmer all the poorer. When the apprentice begged to know why, Elijah said that farmer's beloved wife had been destined to die. Elijah had saved her life by persuading God to accept the sacrifice of the cow instead."

"Myths do make it easier to explain things," said Tough Guy God.

"You could have made the disturbance impossible when you created the universe," pointed out Will. "You could have made up different rules!"

"Which would have created worse consequences," said God, "such as the failure of life to evolve at all. Though I'm afraid you'll have to accept my word for it."

"I don't HAVE to accept anything," said Will gruffly. After a moment though, he said, "Though I think you're being honest describing the situation."

That concession somehow lightened the atmosphere. Joan had an eerie feeling that the confrontation was over.

"I have to commend you, Chief," said God, getting up from the sofa. "You could have asked me about personal grievances, such as your unhappy childhood or the loss of your firstborn. But instead you focused on matters concerning all humanity, because humanity was more important. Perhaps we can talk again later on other subjects."

"Very well," said Will. "But let me re-iterate my position. Joan, you and the others are adults now, and I don't think God is tampering with your judgments. I can't dictate whom you befriend or what you for them. But I will not go on these missions."

"That's all right with Me," said God, heading toward the front door. "You're doing the right thing as it is."

TO BE CONTINUED

_(Author's Note: I've come across the Prophet Elijah story twice, once in a collection of Hasidic legends, and the other, oddly enough, in the King Arthur novel ONCE AND FUTURE KING.)_

_(Author's Note: The lines where God says he always follows his own rules are from C.S. Lewis' VOYAGE OF THE DAWN TREADER, one of the CHRONICLES OF NARNIA.)_


	14. Action and Reaction

**JOAN'S FLASHFORWARD**

**Chapter 14 Action and Reaction**

"_When a man knows that he will be hanged in a fortnight, it concentrates his mind wonderfully -- Samuel Johnson_

Luke paced the corridor outside the clinic entrance. Had he looked in the least like a suspicious character, somebody might have threatened to call the police, but there were advantages to being a bespectacled nerd with a self-effacing manner: nobody noticed him. As unfortunate as that had been in high school, it was convenient now. This was an awkward situation, but Luke couldn't figure anywhere else to go.

A couple of hours ago he had received a phone call from the local SEEDS office, from a friend he had made while during temporary summer work there. "Luke, it's so good that you were able to persuade Grace to come here for a comprehensive medical exam. After all it's not just her life at risk from infection, but the locals and her fellow workers too. She stopped by just now and said that she was on her way to the Crawford Long Clinic."

"What? Grace is HERE, in Boston? She didn't even tell me she had landed in the US."

"Um. Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned it. I thought you and she – well." CLICK.

Of course from the point of view of anybody not in the secret, Luke and Grace had not met in more than a year, and their affection could be expected to have cooled. But Luke knew better: he and Grace were intimate lovers. So why hadn't she called and said she was in the same city?

Luke went to the Crawford Long Clinic and asked the receptionist if he could see Miss Polonski, but the receptionist thought it a violation of medical privacy even to admit that Grace was there. Nor did Luke have any excuse for taking up space in the waiting room. Hence his walk up and down the corridor.

Finally the door opened and a familiar blonde came out. To his surprise she looked different: in the Dreamworld she always looked the same, but the real woman had let hair her grow during the past year, and had developed a tan, presumably by extensive work under the tropical sun. But undeniably it was –

"Grace!"

She looked at him and started walking the other direction.

"Grace! We need to talk." He started running towards her.

"No we don't, Luke. I need some time alone." She didn't even turn around to tell him that.

He slowed his pace but kept walking towards her. "Is it bad news? You let me stay at your side before!" He was referring to the time when he helped her through the stress of her mother's drinking habit.

"I don't know, Luke. Please, give me some space."

Why would she want to avoid him? He had never seen this behavior in her before, since they had declared their love four years ago. Could she have gotten a basic sentence of death from the doctors, and was too stunned even to want Luke's company?

Perhaps most males would have followed her and been more insistent. But Luke was used to giving in to Grace's requests/orders, and so he came to a halt, while she continued walking toward the exit. It was several minutes before he realized that there was no longer any point to staying in this building, and he might as well go back to Harvard.

In his dorm room, Luke took out his notes on the FlashForward. Not only would they get his mind off of Grace, but he felt that he might be able to accomplish something about the mystery. After all, he had hints from God. Joan had told him about God's revelations during the talk with Dad: that a "disturbance" was hitting Earth in April and that God had diverted it into a sort of space-time warp that stretched back to October and enabled humanity to see the future. What if Luke combined that with the widespread report that a supernova would become visible in April, striking Earth not only with light but with other forms of radiation?

Science was a good alternative to his emotions at the moment.

There had been other supernovas seen before in the last thousand years: one in the Middle Ages, which was described by Chinese astronomers and had created the Crab Nebula. Two others in the Renaissance, observed by the brilliant European astronomers Tycho Brahe and Johann Kepler. Obviously they had not created Flashforwards. What was the difference with this one?

One difference, Luke realized, was the state of the Earth. Earth during the earlier supernovas had had great individual scientists, but they were pre-industrial. The most advanced machine available in those times was a fancy clock. Earth in 2009 had machines all over the place, even in the comparatively primitive lands where Grace worked. Radio waves going through the air and the vacuum. Atomic reactions had been created on Earth, even when nations were reluctant to embrace nuclear energy. Nuclear energy involved quantum effects, and Joan had remembered God's revelation that a quantum-level reaction was responsible for the Flashforwards.

Luke went off to see Professor HeisenBorg in the Physics Department.

"But what sort of change are you talking about?" asked HeisenBorg. He was being scientifically critical, not dismissive. "New chemicals in the air, radio waves, even atomic research – none of those have shown the slightest relationship with the flow of time. Admittedly they have not been hit by supernova radiation before, but we could at least predict the effects from current knowledge."

"Maybe it's Dark Matter. We don't know much about Dark Matter. But human activity may have stirred up the Dark Matter, and made it vulnerable to the radiation."

Dark Matter was a term much in vogue among physicists at the moment. Astrophysicists studying gravitational effects in the galaxy insisted that there must be far more matter out there than they could see. They dubbed it Dark Matter, but they couldn't agree on anything else yet. Maybe it literally was ordinary matter that was dark, perhaps it was too far from stars to be lit up. Or maybe it was something exotic that humans hadn't directly detected yet. It was possible that they were surrounded by Dark Matter but couldn't see it.

The professor shook his head. "Luke, you can't simply say 'maybe it's dark matter'. You have to work out a detailed theory about the mechanism. Think of this historical parallel. The ancient Roman philosopher-poet Lucretius actually proposed the notion of evolution more than two thousand years ago. So why do we give credit to Darwin instead? Because he was the one who worked out the theory of natural selection in detail and marshaled the evidence."

"I'm not trying to come up with a formal theory," said Luke. "I'm trying to come up with an idea to avert a disaster. If somebody else fleshes it out and figures out how to keep the disaster away, then fine; let the Somebody Else get the credit. I'd just like to offer the idea."

HeisenBorg looked somber. "Yes, I see where you're coming from. It's rare that theoretical physics has a direct effect on human lives: first the atomic bomb, now this. Very well, I'll pass along the notion that the state of the Earth might have been significant in causing the flashforward."

"Thank you, sir." A tiny bit of relief flooded through Luke, but it didn't last long.

Back in the dorm, Luke brooded. As he had sometimes complained to Joan, it was hard to reconcile Einstein's God, the embodiment of natural forces, with something like Cute Boy God who might stop by to chat. And Dad had actually hit on the same idea from another direction. One did not blame anybody for Acts of God. But if you thought of God as a human being whom you could talk to, could you blame Him for the acts?

KNOCKNOCKNOCK.

_Oh, great. Has God heard me thinking and decided to come by and argue?_

Luke went to the door.

"Grace!"

"Luke, I – I –" She rushed toward Luke and embraced him tightly. He could hear her sobbing on his shoulder.

Luke kicked the door shut so that she could cry in privacy. When she finally released him and sank down to sit on his bed, he asked softly, "Grace, what happened? Bad news from the doctor?"

"No news, Luke. They're running a lot of lab tests overnight, on my blood and crap and everything else. But I'm steeling myself for the worst."

_Yes, she always has_. "But why have you been pushing me away all day?"

Grace sat silent for a long time. Opening up was something hard for her. But finally she said: "Luke, it's possible I may die in six months. I've seen people lose loved ones. Mr. Rove losing his wife, Joan losing Judith, Lily losing Kevin. I wanted to spare you that. I thought that, if I could break us up---"

"Grace, I don't think you CAN break us up. I'd continue to love you even if you beat me black and blue." He paused, his cheeks tinting pink. "Um, that came out kinkier than I intended."

Grace laughed, then leaned forward and kissed him. "I'll continue to love you too. I realized I COULDN'T stand to keep pushing you away, that I want you in my arms. Selfish of me."

"I'd say 'how loving of you' but…" Luke trailed off, knowing she understood.

Grace apparently thought the conversation was getting too gooey, because she looked down on the bed and changed the subject. "Ordinarily, I'd offer to stay with you tonight. Wouldn't it be cool to make love for real for a change? But whatever I've got could be catching, and we shouldn't risk it, not even with 'protection'.."

"I'd be willing to---"

"Are you being horny, or polite?"

"Um, forget I offered." Grace laughed again. She must need a good laugh at the moment. "But, seriously, Grace, will you let me go with you tomorrow when you go back to the doctor?"

"I'd love to have you with me, Luke."

The next day, with Grace identifying Luke as her Significant Other, he had no problem sitting in on the medical discussion.

"Most of the tests came up negative, Miss Polonsky," said the doctor. "But on this one, we found a new virus that hasn't been observed before." She handed the lovers a picture of a microbe, which didn't convey any particular information to either Grace or Luke.

"Does that mean I'm going to die?" Grace asked glumly. Luke placed his hand in hers.

"What? No, this is actually a sort of good news, Miss Polonsky. Instead of a vague prediction, we now know what test to use, and what to look for. After all, you're probably not the only one infected; it's just luck that you found out during your flashforward. We can send the test out and recommend it in that corner of the world, find out how pervasive the disease really is."

"But what about CURING it?" Grace said desperately. She gripped Luke's hand.

"We can start off research on that as well, now that we know how to detect it. But I have a question, Miss Polonski. Would you mind trying out various therapies?"

Luke, overjoyed that the doctor seemed optimistic, joked. "She means be a guinea pig, Grace. Doesn't sound very kosher."

"Guinea pigs aren't real pigs, Luke." She gave him a look, and realized that he had been joking and knew the distinction between the animals perfectly well. But she looked grateful for the joke. "And I suppose being a guinea pig beats dying. But if I'm staying here being experimented on, I'll have to tell SEEDS I can't go abroad for a while; I supposed they'll give me a desk job. Crap."

"Then we'll draw up some permission papers." The doctor thought for a moment. "Off the record, this is the weirdest medical case I've ever been involved with. A new disease, discovered because a couple of people had a vision. Flashforwards have certainly changed all the rules!"

As they walked out of the doctor's office, Grace gave Luke a big hug and didn't seem to care who could see them. "Thanks for standing by me, Luke. I'm afraid that we will have to hold off on intimacy until they get the germ out, but believe me, I love you."

"Yeah. At least we can dream about it." He winked.

"Meet in dreams while we're in the same city? I hadn't thought of that. Oh the possibilities----"

TO BE CONTINUED

_(NOTE: Supernovas and Dark Matter are real scientific concepts, and I hope I described them properly here. The notion that a supernova combined with another phenomenon to cause the Flashforward was from the original FLASHFORWARD novel.)_

_(NOTE: Lucretius was also real. He wrote a scientific poem called ON THE NATURE OF THINGS that amazingly anticipated some modern ideas, including evolution, the atomic theory, and even the Uncertainty Principle._

_(NOTE: The name of the clinic is an elaborate in-joke. There is a priority dispute over who first used anesthesia during an operation: a Boston clinic or an individual doctor Crawford Long, from my home town. So I had a fictitious Boston give in and honor Dr. Long)_


	15. Epilogue

**JOAN'S FLASHFORWARD**

**Chapter 15 Epilogue**

_(AUTHOR'S NOTE: I didn't make any effort to dovetail with the ending of the TV show. I planned out the story during the midseason hiatus and had no idea what direction the TV show would go)_

_"And now," said the TV announcer. "Let's bring on the world expert on Flashfowards, Herman HeisenBorg."_

Professor HeinsenBorg entered onto the stage.

"Thank you, Mr. Numberman. But it would be unjust for me to put myself forward as The Expert. There are other people who deserve credit as much as or more than me. This was a project where the whole world needed a solution, and vast numbers of scientists cooperated to find the cause, either in person or on the Internet. In particular I want to credit a Harvard undergraduate who first put me on the right path, and who is in the audience tonight: Mr. Luke Girardi. Luke, please stand up."

Luke stood, and all the TV cameras turned to get him in their sights. He looked a little uncomfortable at the fact that the cameras were on him. He pulled on Grace's arm and persuaded her to stand as well. "Thank you, and in turn I want to praise a woman who helped defeat a disease that had been predicted in my own Flashforward. My fiancée, Grace Polonski."

Grace smiled for the cameras. She had long left behind the days when she wore a motorcycle jacket and butch haircut to shock teachers, but she still objected to "prettying myself up." The compromise was that she presented a dignified, serious façade. She was paler and leaner than she used to be; it had taken three months to find the cure for her disease. Neither Luke and Grace complained: the important thing was that they had found it and may have averted an epidemic. Everybody had contributed; there was no one big hero.

"So the target date for the Flashforward is two days from now," said Mr. Numberman as the cameras turned back to the stage. "What can we expect?"

"In my opinion, nothing," replied the professor. "All the energy will be deflected into the past. We might not even be aware that it is happening on a sensory level, though of course nobody will forget that the flashforwards happened."

"Is there any chance of preventing it? Change history so that the Flashforwards didn't happen?"

The professor shook his head. "I don't believe so. Change happens inside time; you can't change the timeline itself. What we have now is two timelines in parallel, the one where the Flashforwards didn't occur and the one we're on now. Our math implies that a timeline can't be destroyed; any attempt to change time will simply create an additional line. I know people would like to rescue their loved ones who died in all the accidents, but I'm afraid that's scientifically impossible. The only consolations I can give is that the loved ones are alive in an alternate timeline, and that Flashforwards will never happen again."

"How did you arrange that?" asked Numberman. " 'You' meaning all the scientists in the world I mean."

"It's hard to explain directly, but let me make an analogy. Benjamin Franklin, after his famous experiment with the kite, theorized that lightening is the result of the buildup of unbalanced electric charges in the clouds and that mankind could decrease the danger by bleeding off the charge slowly, with lightning rods. Similarly, we've found how to redirect the flow of dark matter near the earth so that it will never again be so vulnerable to supernova radiation."

"Why couldn't God do that the first time?" Grace whispered to Luke.

"I don't know. Maybe it would violate scientific laws to simply Think the matter around. He needed man to do the work."

"And you to think of it," said Grace, giving her betrothed a quick kiss.

.......

If anybody had told Lily that she would spend the evening BEFORE her wedding in bed with her husband, she probably would have been incredulous. But she remembered remembering that detail from her Flashforward, and why fight fate?

To be sure, her current actions in bed were rather tame: reading letters and Emails.

"Joan, Adam, Luke, Grace have all RSVP'ed," she said. "They won't be at the wedding. They'll all be at celebrations of their accomplishments: Adam's picture, Luke's scientific suggestion, Grace's role in preventing an epidemic."

"Does that bother you?" asked Henry.

"Nah. They all deserve to be the center of attention; why should they have to play second fiddle to us?"

"I meant---"

"Yeah, I know what you meant; that they may resent my marrying again. Well, if they feel that way, it's understandable. At least Will and Helen are coming, and nobody is creating a fuss. Taking into account how touchy this subject it, we should consider ourselves lucky. The Girardis have been good to me, Henry. Make sure we go to Luke's wedding, regardless. I hear they'll do it in the Jewish style, with the canopy and the wineglass."

"As long as the absenses don't bother you. You seem worried about something, Lil."

"Yeah," said Lily. "There's something I need to tell you before we get married, Henry."

"Some deep dark secret?" asked Henry, exaggerating the melodramatic tone. "I won't let it bother me."

"It's not dark, though I suppose it's really deep," said Lily. "It has to do with God---"

........

After the presentation of the check (Joan made sure the real check got in her purse, since Adam was not very careful with money) the Girardi-Roves circulated through the crowd. Occasionally Joan turned to look at her husband's painting again. It looked much like the one in her Flashforward vision, with two differences. In the original painting, the Visionary/Joan had been nude. In this version, she was wearing a modest Greek robe. That wasn't because of Joan's modesty – she had modeled for an artist/husband for four years – but to keep Adam's promise to Luke, to make a deliberate change and prove that time be different the second time through.

The other difference was in the artist's intent, though it was hard to isolate the actual change in the painting. In the original painting the Visionary represented Joan herself, with her meetings with God, although of course nobody outside Joan's little circle knew that. This time around, everybody in the world was a Visionary.

"Joan!" called out one of Joan's female classmates, a bit high-strung. She rushed up to the couple. "Look, I don't know anything about art, but I do know I need to thank you. You helped me get my head on straight after the Flashforward; I don't know what I would have done otherwise."

"You're welcome," said Joan. "But the person you should really thank is over there." She pointed to a woman off to the right.

"Ellie Himmel? Yeah, I know she organized the talk sessions, but she's rather cold. You were the one with the empathy." She gave Joan an unexpected kiss on the cheek, and rushed away.

"I'm getting tired of this," Joan complained to Adam. "Professor HeisenBorg was right, people who have the original ideas should get more credit." She walked over to Ellie, who was standing like a wallflower – literally against the wall.

"Ellie, I'm sorry. People aren't giving you proper credit for the work you did after the crisis."

"It's all right, Joan. I get praised all the time. I thought it was time you got honored for a change."

Joan stared. "Oh, crap. It's YOU."

"Yes, Joan. I wondered if My name might give me away. El is Hebrew for God."

"I've had a lot more on my mind the last few months than looking up Hebrew dictionaries!"

"You had the proper priorities, Joan." Ellie/God assured her. "Helping people through one of the greatest crises in recent history."

"Were you being truthful when you told Dad there was no way to stop it?"

"I am the God of Truth."

"Okay."

"But if I couldn't eliminate the crisis, I did My best to make good come out of it. On the personal level – Lily finally realized that she could remarry without feeling like a traitor to your brother. Your family no longer has to lie to your father. Luke and Grace, no matter how self-effacing they try to be, finally got the public recognition they deserve, and they finally realized it was time to make it official and get married. On the broader level, biologists have expanded their ability to fight epidemics, and your scientists know far more about dark matter than they did – that'll be important in the future. And the entire human race has gone through a crisis together – it'll make it difficult for them to go back to hating stereotypes of each other."

"I still wish I had Agnes back, though." A sliver of sadness crossed her heart.

"You'll see her again in the afterlife, Joan. But you still have work to do on Earth." She walked off with her characteristic wave and Joan had to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

"Maybe so," muttered Joan. "But at the moment I am not looking forward to it!"

THE END


End file.
